


Stuck

by Azillawn



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, NOT STUCK IN THE WAY YOU THINK, No Plot/Plotless, a CUTE DOOFUS, honestly the smut isn't really even that bad, johnny and dallas just wanna have fun but dallas gets stuck, like they don't get anywhere bc dallas is a doofus, smut and humor, this is also a bit shorter than my other works but that's ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 01:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13753062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azillawn/pseuds/Azillawn
Summary: “Shoot kid, what happened to bein’ a good boy for me? Good boy’s don’t c’mplain, ‘ya hear?”





	Stuck

Soft, tan skin brushed against lighter. Hot breaths panted into the cold aura of the bedroom. Long and short legs tangled together. Wet lips pressed against the other pair, their movements in automatic sync due to absolute desperation and want for their companion. Hands roamed hot, unclothed skin. Teeth roughly nipped at bruised necks and collarbones.

The room held a meaningful silence. That, or perhaps Dallas Winston was so oblivious to anything else that may be occurring around himself and the petite, panting boy beneath his own heated body. Shouting and music blasted from the floor below them. Had it at all gotten louder, Dallas wasn’t entirely sure; yet the tiny whines of annoyance in which sounded from Johnny perhaps indicated such. No longer could he whisper to the younger from afar if he was to pull away if it were true. With a low grunt, the brunette slipped his tongue out as his lips were lightly pressed against the side of Johnny’s neck, resulting in a tiny mewl to sound above his head. A chuckle of amusement rumbled in the older’s throat. His teeth bit down onto Johnny’s neck once more, the tip of his tongue gently pressing against the flushed skin. As the younger turned his head closer to Dallas rather than further away, Dallas ducked his head, his lips gently grazing down his skin and towards his collarbone once more. Johnny’s own were pressed against Dallas’s ruffled hair, his tiny pants causing the older greaser to shudder. The ravenette beneath him opened his own eyes slowly, his dark brown hues flickering down towards the face of the man who towered over him, the entirety of his body keeping the younger enclosed in lovely heat. “Dallas,” Johnny sighed as his own hands reached up to touch him. They ran up Dallas’s arms, his fingers barely slipping past the tight fabric enclosure of the older’s shirt. “ _Please_. _Please_ just keep goin’, _please_.”

“Impatient? Behave, Johnny. I’ll take as long as I please,” Dallas snarled.

“Please, Dallas. C-Christ, I-”

“I said _behave_.”

Johnny threw his head back against the mattress, a loud whine of displeasure sounding in his throat whilst he slowly bucked his hips up, his own grazing against Dallas’s. With a sharp inhale out of shock, Dallas reached between them both and held onto Johnny’s hip with a bruising grip. He pushed him back down against the mattress to Johnny’s dismay. The younger squeaked, his nose wrinkling in distaste to the lack of possibility to cant his hips. However, a spark of hope would rise up in his chest as the older retracted his hand from his hips. With no care for consequence, Johnny bucked his hips once more, only for the action to be stopped upon the sudden force of the entirety of Dallas’s body. “Dally!” Johnny hissed, his head lowering and his puppy-dog eyes fluttering open to glare up at the older who sat upon his tinier body. However, all that was returned in response was a cocky smirk from the brunette above him. No contact was shared between them, minus the heavy huffs of breath and Dallas somewhat straddling him. Dallas’s calloused fingers now rested at the bottom of his shirt, his nails gently digging against the fabric as he began to lift it up.

“Shoot kid, what happened to bein’ a good boy for me? Good boy’s don’t c’mplain, ‘ya hear?” Dallas teased, a low purr evident in his throat. The sound nearly made Johnny melt beneath him, his shiver making this quite evident. A dose of laughter passed Dallas’s bruised, reddened lips before attention was returned to stripping of his clothes. He pulled his shirt up over his head - and Dallas stopped there, his arms up in the air and his face covered by brown cloth. Johnny furrowed his brows at this sight, his arms reaching back and his elbows digging into the mattress as leverage to push himself up. His gaze flickered up and down, taking in the sight of the older who sat perfectly still on top of him. The force nearly made him begin to lose feeling in his legs, yet he couldn’t move them in order to regain feeling.

“Dallas? Why’re you just?-”

“Johnny, man.”

“Yeah?”

“M’stuck in the shirt.”

It was silent after the confession. Dark brown eyes scanned a light, uncovered torso. Hips moved, legs trembled, and slowly, exhausted laughter began to fill the spare room of Buck Merrill’s place. Johnny’s hand reached up to his uncovered chest, his hand gently pressing against where his heart pounded as he fell back against the mattress, his ungreased hair sprawling out beneath his head. His chest rose and fell unevenly as he practically wheezed out giggles and full on laughter at the situation at hand. A muffled groan of annoyance would sound above him, in which only worsened the younger’s laughter to something nearly hysterical. “Get offa’ me!” Johnny panted, his legs beginning to kick in order to move Dallas off of his flushed, nearly naked body. The older fell off of his companion and landed on his side, his head audibly hitting against his shoulder as the mattress sunk down beneath his weight.

“Quit laughin’, Johnny! I’m stuck in my shirt!” Dallas screeched.

“That’s what ‘ya get!” Johnny wheezed, his foot gently kicking at Dallas’s longer legs, causing the older to flinch away and nearly roll off of the old bed in hopes of avoiding the rough contact.

“ _Quit! Quit!_ You’re gonna -- _I can’t see, Johnny!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in about two hours huzzuk


End file.
